For the win
by SilverOdair
Summary: What happens if Peeta has a girlfriend before he is entered in the games? What if he doesn't care about Katniss and only wants to survive... to return to his girlfriend? Rated T because it is the Hunger Games
1. Chapter 1

**Please review! I'll add more if people like it.**

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I wake up early today. Even though it's the reaping, there's no rest in the bakery. Everyone wants to celebrate when they are not picked. I am sure I won't be the tribute. I'm seventeen, and only have my name in the bowl 7 times. There are some kids in the Seam, the poorest part of District 12, that have entered there name in over 40 times by my age. They entered the extra for the tesserae, which will stop them from starving. Like Lenya. She is a year younger than me, and has her name entered 38 times.

I pull myself out of bed and stumble down to the kitchen. My mother is already up, up to her elbows in flour. I silently curse. Why couldn't dad be the early riser? "Why did you take so long to get down here?" she snaps, whacking me none too gently on the head with the roller. "Daydreaming again? Life isn't a party. You're not no pretty Capitol citizen who can just loll around all day. Man up and work!"

"Sorry," I mutter, looking longingly out the window in the direction of Lenya's house. She'll be up already, scared for herself, and her 11 year old sister, Tess. In a year, Tess'll be a name in that glass bowl. "Sorry doesn't cut it! Now get to work at the cashier!" Casting one last glance out the window, I walk into the front room of the shop, where some kid from the Seam is waiting for me. Where he got money for bread, I don't know. Probably something illegal though, if I know the Seam. What's his name? Sale? Close…Oh! It's Yale! He's one of those kids who has his name in the reaping too many times. "Hey. What do you want?" I ask, rather grumpily, because this kid is probably the reason my mother yelled at me. Rather uncomfortably, he replies, "Can I talk to your father?"

"He's asleep."

"Please?"

"No."

"The only business I have with anyone in this house is your father." Yale shouts out angrily. "Ok, ok! I'll wake him up!" I hurry upstairs to my parent's bedroom, and shake my dad awake. "Go away Peeta."

"No. There's some kid down at the bakery who will only do business with you. His name's Yale."

"Ok. Tell him I'll be down in a second. By the way, his names Gale." My dad stumbles out of bed to the bathroom, and locks the door behind him. I go back to the bedroom I share with my brothers, because now that Dad's up, the front counter is looked after. I can sleep. Of course, my brothers think otherwise. Allen and Yamen are having a pillow fight, stopping only when I walk into the room. "Hey little bro. Want to join us?" Yamen asks. I shake my head and head out of the room and towards the back entrance. Towards Lenya.


	2. Chapter 1 continued Lenya

I wander outside into the cool, fresh air, completely different from the tensed out atmosphere in the bakery. Less then a mile and I'm at Lenya's house, a one room, cramped space, except unlike my house, it seems like a paradise. I raise my hand to knock, but before I can, Lenya opens the door, and hurdles out, knocking me to the ground. I manage to gasp a breath in before she squeezes me. "Promise me you won't get picked, ok? Promise!" she says anxiously. "Why are you worried about me? You're the one who has your name in there so much! Why can't you just take the bread I offer you? Then you'd be safer!" Through my whole tirade, Lenya looks at me. "You know why," she whispers. And I do. It's the same reason I won't do whatever my mother says.

Pride. Everyone clings to the little bits of it floating around, because it's something to hold onto in the desolate landscape of district 12. It's our savior, yet the one that dooms us as well. Merchants, and the Seam. An invisible, unbreakable barrier between us " Come on, Peeta! Lighten up! Tonight mom prepared us a feast. She bought stew from the Hob, and dad saved up enough to get us a loaf and some butter." As I look at her, my heart aches, because I know that is not a feast. I know that my family eats better than that on a regular basis. Lenya gives me a quick kiss on the cheek, and I sigh. " I promise," I say. "And I always keep my promises."

"Thank you! Will you help me calm Alena?" She says anxiously. Next year she's in the reaping, and she's getting nervous." I nod my consent, and we head into her house.

By the time I make it back to the house, it's nearly reaping time. I quickly dress up, and head to the square. I sign in with the other seventeen year olds, herded into a pen like an animal. But I suppose, to the capital, we are animals. Don't they realize how despicable they seem to us, with all there fancy clothes, and fake appearances? Don't they realize we don't want to be like them? I glance over at the 16 year old pen, and catch Lenya panicked eyes. I see her family by the square edge, and most of mine. My mother didn't bother coming. Didn't care enough, I suppose. Two of the three chairs are filled, one with the grotesque body of Effie Trinket, the other with District 12's mayor. The mayor steps up to the podium and begins reading the history of Panem, how it rose from the ashes of North America, and how the revolution against the Capitol brought the dark days among us. Then, the dark days ended, and the Hunger Games began. "It is both a time for repentance and thanks," drones the mayor. Next, he reads the list of past District 12 victors. In all seventy three games, we have had exactly two. Only one of them is still alive. At that moment, Haymitch Abernathy, the only living victor, stumbles on stage, drunk. The crowd gives a scattered applause, but Haymitch is very obviously confused. He tries to give Effie Trinket a hug, which she manages to fend off. The mayor is distressed, because he knows we are the laughingstock of Panem right now. Aren't we always, though? He quickly tries to fix it, introducing Effie Trinket, District 12's escort. Effie trots up to the podium, declaring, "Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be _ever_ in your favor!" Right. Everyone in the audience now knows that Effie's bright bubblegum colored hair is a wig, because Haymitch's hug knocked it onto a tilt, but I knew it months ago. There is no way that couldn't be fake. Effie goes on on what an honor it is to be here, but we all know she's just wishing she could move up to a better district, with "proper victors."

I look around anxiously, spotting Lenya in the crowd with the other sixteen year old girls. I give her a small smile, and she mimics Effie Trinket, causing me to almost spontaneously burst out laughing. It's the pressure, I suppose. Now, it's time to pick the names. Like she always does, Effie Trinket twitters, "Ladies First," and hops over to the girls' ball. Now I'm hoping desperately it's not Lenya, anyone but her, anyone-

And it's not. The name Effie reads out in her fake voice is Primrose Everdeen.


	3. Chapter 2: The reaping

**Review! Please! So, as you see Peeta is going in the games….**

**I may not be able to edit the story very often, because I'm traveling a lot, but I'll try to get a chapter in at least every week.**

**I do not own the Hunger Games or the characters. If I did, Finnick, Prim and Rue wouldn't have died.**

As if in a trance, I can sense what will happen next. Primrose walks towards the stage determinedly, her face clenched determinedly, the back of her blouse hanging out like the tail of a duck. Katniss, Prim's sister, cries out, "Prim!" She shoves her way through the crowd, pushing past Lenya. She reaches Prim, and pushes her out of the way. "I volunteer!" She shouts. "I volunteer as tribute!" I knew it.

Prim is protesting now, but the guy who was in our bakery this morning, Yale-no wait, it was Gale, picks her up and takes her away, despite the protests. "Well, bravo!" Effie gushes, proud to have some action in our district for once. "That's the spirit of the games! What's your name?" Katniss is obviously scared, yet trying to conceal it. "Katniss Everdeen," she says. "I bet my buttons that was your sister. Don't want her to steal all the glory, do we? Come on everybody! Let's give a big round of applause to our newest tribute!" Effie says, delighted.

I don't clap. Nobody does. The horror of the idea that Katniss volunteered for glory, not that I like her, the very idea of the hunger games. It's barbaric. This is the best we can do to say we do not approve. That this is wrong, the Capitol is wrong. Somewhere in the crowd, an old man holds three fingers of his left hand to his lips, and hold it out to Katniss. Another, and another repeat the farewell. I do to. It is the most meaningful goodbye we can give, and though I do not like Katniss, I recognize her spirit in saving her sister.

Suddenly, Haymitch comes staggering across stage to "congragulate" Katniss. He throws an arm around her shoulders totally drunk. I hold back a laugh. "Look at her! Look at this one!" He says, swaying. "I like her! She's got lots of spunk! More than you! And you!" I share an amused glance with Lenya, though the situation is serious. Haymitch might actually be mocking the capitol, but we never get to find out, because Haymitch falls off the stage, and knocks himself out.

A stretcher whisks Haymitch away, and Effie, in an effort to dismiss him, hurriedly reaches into the boy's ball and pulls out a name. I don't even have time to wish that it isn't me before she's reading it out loud. "Peeta Mellark!"

The odds are definently not in my favor today. Not only am I tribute, but with Katniss Everdeen! My mind flashes back to our interaction 5 years ago. I was in the bakery, with my mother, baking. My mind wasn't there though, because I knew Lenya, who at the time was my best friend, and her family were going hungry tonight. So I burnt the bread. My mother slapt me, and told me to feed it to the pigs.

I went outside, and started tossing small pieces, waiting for her to go away. She finally did, and with a final, anxious glance towards the window, I prepared to sprint to Lenya's house. I would toss the loaves in the window. They couldn't reject them. Then, I saw her. At the time, I wasn't thinking straight. I thought she was Lenya, with her brown hair pulled back in a bun. So I tossed her the loaves, and jogged back inside. My mother beat me, because she had seen me. Seen me tossing the loaves to Katniss Everdeen.

That's how I remember Katniss. The girl who costed me a beating, and Lenya dinner. Since then, I've learned she's a whiny, arrogant brat who thinks she's better than everyone else, but that's not the point.

I see Lenya looking at me, panicked as I make my way up on stage. I can't afford to cry. It would be seen as a weakness, and that might just get me killed. Effie Trinket asks for volunteers, and I stare out hopefully, because just maybe Yamen will volunteer, just maybe I won't have to die. But that's not to be. Family devotion usually only goes so far on reaping day. The mayor begins to read the long dull Treaty of Treason as he does every year, but I'm not listening, hoping desperately that this is all a dream, that I won't have to kill. Well, with 24 of us in there, the odds are I'll be killed. First.

Of course, the odds have not been very dependable of late.


	4. Chapter 3: Promises

**Two Chapters in one Day! This one is long, too. I might be following the plot a bit to closely… please! Review!**

**I do not own the hunger games or the characters. If I did, Finnick, Prim, and Rue wouldn't have died. To all readers: If you were a tribute in the hunger games; have far would you go to survive? **

The reaping is over, and the Peacekeepers march us into the Justice Building. I remember last year, when most tributes almost simultaneously tried to escape. It didn't work, and though it is often attempted, I've never seen it actually happen. Once inside, I'm taken to a richly furnished room, and left there. The moment I'm alone, I start to cry, knowing it will show later, but unable to help it.

My father comes into the room first. He's not a talkative man, and for a few minutes, we just sit there, until he finally speaks. "Do your best, out there Peeta, ok?" I nod my consent, happy that he didn't try to tell me I'm going to win, that I'll make it home, that everything will be all right. Because it won't. I've seen the victors, and all of them have a strange, haunted look in their eyes, because it is obvious that the games never leave you.

I bury my face into my father's shirt, tears streaming down my face, knowing that I could be dead in less than a fortnight. Finally, the peacekeepers come, signaling his time is up, and I know that this is it. When I break down. Next, my brothers come in, and Yamen is beside himself. I can't blame him for not volunteering, though, but a small part of me can't help but feel angry that he condemned me to death, not willing to take my place. They don't tell me I'm going to win, either. They are two busy telling me I must win, and I humor them, promising I will, knowing it's useless to say otherwise.

My next visitor is Delly, one of my best friends forever. She's holding something in her hand, a rough cord that's an ankle bracelet. She's talking urgently, so fast I can barely understand what's happening. "They allow you to take one thing with you into the games, as a reminder of home. Will you take this?"

"Okay," I whisper, barely getting the words out, less concerned with district tokens and more concerned with surviving. But Delly's looking panicked as the peacekeepers come to take her away. "Promise!" She yells. "I promise," I reply, and get the feeling that this is not just about the token, but also about coming home. About not leaving this world in a foreign place.

Next, my mother enters, and I'm surprised that she cared enough, but not pleased when she finally speaks. "District 12 will finally have a victor this year," she says, and I'm strangely happy, to here that, though if anyone else said it, it would sound fake. "You really think so?"

"Yes. She's a survivor, that one." And then my heart sinks, because I realize that she's not talking about me at all, that she knows I'll die, that she never cared. The words that come out of my mouth are harsher than I thought they would be. "Leave. Just…leave. I don't want you here. No one does." She looks stunned. "Why you ungrateful little brat! I raised you! I-"

"No one cares," I interrupt heavily, once again on the verge of tears. "No one cares about you." With that, I turn away, and hear her leave. Before the door slams behind you, I think I hear her whisper, "I love you," but it's so quiet it may just be a figment of my imagination.

My final visitor is expected. In fact, I would be devastated if she didn't come. Lenya rushes in, crying. "You've got to win! For me! For the district! I-I can't watch you die." It breaks my heart to know she cares so much, but I look her in the eye and say fiercely. "I will win."

"Promise! Promise you will do whatever it takes to make it out of that arena alive."

"I promise." And then we are kissing, desperately wishing for more time, passionately, knowing it is likely I will never see her again. The peacekeepers yank her away. "Promise!" she screams fiercely, as they drag her away.

"Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye." Then she's gone, and all that is left is the dust raised by the slammed door.

The peacekeepers take me to a car. I've never ridden in a car before, but am getting nauseas. The train station is crammed with reporters and their cameras are trained on our faces. By this point, the only reason I care about the tears on my face is because of the promise I made. We have to stand in the doorway for a few minutes while the cameras flash, but then we are taken inside and the doors close on my last sighting of district 12. Katniss and I are each given chambers about the size of the bakery and the kitchen put together, with a dressing room, a bedroom, and a bathroom. The showers are much nicer than the ones we have at home, and there are drawers stuffed with clothing. Effie Trinket tells me I have an hour to do whatever I want and prepare for supper. I take a quick shower and dress in a black shirt with loose black pants. I fashion Delly's bracelet around my ankle, determined to at least keep that promise. I bury myself in the pillows, and remember Lenya's final words. "_Do whatever it takes to win."_ And I know that, for her, I will.

Before I know it Effie is summoning me for dinner, in her obnoxious voice that I don't know how I will stand. I'm stuck for a week with a Capitol citizen, a drunkard, and Katniss Everdeen. I might be dead before the games even start.

I sit down, waiting for Effie to arrive with Katniss. When they do, Katniss sits down next to me. Like I said, pure torture. "Where's Haymitch?" I remember seeing him, headed for his room before I collapsed. "Last I saw him, he said he was going to take a nap."

"Well, it's been an exhausting day," Effie replies, obviously pleased by Haymitch's absence.

The supper comes in courses, when one course is more than enough to feed my family for a day. A thick carrot soup, mixed green salad, lamb chops and mashed potatoes, cheese and fruit, a chocolate cake. Effie constantly kept reminding us to save space because there is more to come. I listen, but I notice Katniss stuffing herself like a pig.

"At least you two have decent manners. The pair last year ate everything with their hands like a couple of savages. It completely upset my digestion," Effie says. Katniss makes a point of eating with her fingers the rest of the meal. I snicker quietly to myself. When I finish the meal, I feel green, but manage to hold it all in.

We leave for another room to watch the recap of the reaping. I take notes on all our competition. The female from 1: Glimmer; a lush body, green eyes, and flowing blond hair. Marvel: Brown hair and brown eyes, large, stocky. From 2: Clove, a small brown haired girl that looks deadly and ready to start killing, and Cato, a monstrous boy with blond hair and blue eyes. From 3: Elia, only 14 years old, and pretty small with black hair and blue-green eyes. The boy is my age. I didn't catch the name, but he looked clever. The four tributes: Ophelia and Arom; run of the mill careers, both of them blond hair and brown eyes. From five, a foxfaced girl with sleek red hair that may be the smartest of the bunch name Finch, and a brown haired blue eyed 15 year old, Mac. 6 has a brother and sister; Anna and Felipe, looking almost identical with dark brown hair and black eyes. From 7: A 17 year old brown haired brown eyed beauty that looks scarily like Lenya, and a 13 year old boy with brown hair and green eyes. The 8 tributes are unremarkable; both black-haired and tiny, one thirteen the other fourteen. Jade and Taret. The nine tributes are both 18 but skinny and underfed; Anya and Felin. From 10 a 16 year old girl with dark skin, and a crippled boy for whom I feel nothing but pity. The eleven tributes: A dark skinned black haired twelve year old who very obviously reminds Katniss of Prim. Her name is Rue. The other tribute from eleven looks like a career, big and stocky with black hair and dark skin. Then you see our reaping. I did a horrible job of disguising my terror. We look like we'll be killed in the bloodbath. We probably will.

Effie Trinket looks disgruntled. "Your mentor has a lot to learn about presentation. A lot about televised behavior." I laugh. " He was drunk. He's drunk every year."

"Every day," Katniss adds, smirking. "Yes," Effie hisses. "How odd you two find it amusing. You know your mentor is your lifeline to the world in these Games. The one who advises you, lines up your sponsors, and dictates the presentation of any gifts. Haymitch can well be the difference between your life and your death!"

Right on schedule, Haymitch staggers inside. "I miss supper?" He asks. Then he vomits all over and fall unconscious in it. "So laugh away!" says Effie, and she walks out of the room.

Wonderful. Now I have to clean up this mess.

**Oh… What's Peeta planning. Do whatever it takes to survive… Right?**


	5. Chapter 4: Sponsors

**Please review! I know Peeta is a bit of an unsavory character, but that is partly the idea. He was never my favorite, and in this story, he will do whatever it takes to win….**

Katniss is very obviously disgusted by the mess on the floor, and truth to be told, so am I. We exchange a glance, and haul Haymitch to his feet. "I trip?" he asks. "Smells bad." He wipes his filthy hand on an already vomit covered face, increasing the damage. I grimace. "Let's get you back to your room. Clean you up a bit."

We half-carry Haymitch to the room, and haul him into the bathroom. As much as I hate it, I can't stand doing much of anything with Katniss Everdeen, so I offer to clean him up alone. Besides, it'll win her trust. Do whatever it takes to win… Katniss quickly agrees. "Okay," she says. "I can send one of the Capitol people to help you.

"No, I don't want them," I say, thinking of my horror at the sight of them. Katniss nods, and leaves the room. I breathe a sigh of relief, before turning back to the problem at hand. He's slumped unconscious in the bathtub, and I very carefully strip him naked, wrinkling my nose at the smell as I do so. I prop him up against the shower wall, watching to making sure he doesn't slip and hit his head. I turn the water on, and all the vomit washes off of him into a puddle that disappears down the drain. Bit by bit, I scrub him clean, then turn off the showerhead. I dress him in a fluffy white robe, and drag him to the bed, before leaving the room. Next time, Katniss can do it.

I wander my way back to the compartments. Staring at the window, hoping to catch a last glance that reminds me of home. I wonder what Lenya is doing tonight. She probably watched the recap of the reapings, is wondering how I can defeat them. I hope she remembers her last words to me. Do whatever you can to win…

I can tell that right now is the time for planning my strategy. Just how far will I go to make it home to Lenya? Will I kill Katniss Everdeen? Yes, I would, easily, even to go home and be shunned by my district.

But…maybe I won't have to. In the back of my mind, the threads of a plan begin to form. And suddenly, I have hope that I will make it home. In fact, I know I will. With a sigh, I head over to the dresser, searching through it until I find a respectable pair of nightclothes. I slip into them, and climb under the covers, imagining myself back in the bakery, listening to my brothers snore through the walls…

It is not long before I drift away, but cannot escape the Games. Even in my dreams they haunt me, the monstrous boy from district 2 coming ever closer…

I wake up to Haymitch dumping a bucket of water over my head. "Hey!," I protest. "That was unnecessary."

"Get up kid. Breakfast time." I groan, and roll over. Haymitch dumps me over his shoulder and sticks me in the shower, turning the water on ice cold. THAT wakes me up. I yell at him to leave, and get out of the shower. I wear another t-shirt and a pair of jeans. I walk into the dining room, sit down, and Haymitch starts chuckling. I grab a roll and try to ignore him. Katniss and Effie walk into the compartment, and give a small groan. My two least favorite females.

"Sit down! Sit down!" Haymitch waves them to the table. I notice Katniss staring at a cup of hot chocolate, a drink I've had once or twice. "They call it hot chocolate," I say condescendingly, "It's good."

Katniss drains the cup. Then she stuffs herself. I snort. She has horrible manners. Haymitch isn't eating much, but is drinking a lot. Again. Soon, he'll be drunk. Again. Katniss clearly has realized that too.

"So you're supposed to gives us advice," she says. I can't help it. I smirk. That was rather obvious.

Haymitch finds it funny too. "Here's some advice. Stay alive." Then he starts laughing, and my smirk turns to a frown. Katniss is right. We need good advice, not "stay alive" from a drunkard. "That's very funny." I say, lashing out and breaking his glass. "Only not to us." Haymitch thinks for a moment, then punches me in the jaw, knocking me over. I try not to curse. What the crap does he think he's doing? Haymitch reaches for the bottle, and Katniss drives a knife between his fingers. I try not to laugh. Between the two of us, we'll stop him from drinking. Haymitch looks confused.

"What's this? Did I actually get a pair of fighters this year?" he says. I stand up, and reach for some ice, but Haymitch stops me. "No," he says. "Let the bruise show. The audience will think you've mixed it up with another tribute before you've even made it to the arena."

"That's against the rules," I say. "Only if they catch you. That bruise will say you fought, you weren't caught, even better," Haymitch replies, before turning to Katniss. "Can you hit anything with that knife besides the table?"

I know that her premium weapon is a bow and arrow; she trades my father squirrels all the time, but maybe she can use a knife too. She yanks it out of the table, and throws it at a wall, burying it between two panels. Yup. She can use a knife. I can't help but feeling jealous, because she's so good with weapons, that she has a chance of winning these games with something other than sponsors. Unlike me.

"Stand over here. Both of you," Haymitch says, nodding at the middle of the room. We walk over there, and Haymitch circles us, poking and prodding. "Well, you're not entirely hopeless. Seem fit. And once the stylists get hold of you, you'll be attractive enough." I don't question this. I know sponsors are always important in the games, and appearance gets you sponsors.

"All right, I'll make a deal with you. You don't interfere with my drinking, and I'll stay sober enough to help you," says Haymitch. "But you have to do exactly what I say." It's the worst deal I've ever heard, but it'll work. "Fine," I say. "So help us," Katniss says eagerly. "When we get to the cornucopia, what's the best strategy for someone-"

"One thing at a time. In a few minutes, we'll be pulling into the station. You'll be put in the hands of your stylists. You're not going to like what they do to you. But no matter what it is, don't resist," says Haymitch. "But-" Katniss begins to protest. "No buts. Don't resist," Haymitch replies, taking a sip out of the bottle of spirits, and leaving the car. The tunnel goes dark, and I know we are going under the mountains that are a barrier to the Capitol. I stand uncomfortably by Katniss until light breaks into the train. I immediately rush to the window to see the Capitol. The people begin to point as they recognize us as tributes, and I know my play for sponsors starts now. I wave and smile, happy that Katniss backs away. I catch her staring, and shrug. "Who knows? One of them might be rich." I see that Katniss is horrified, and hope that now she knows that I don't care about her. That I will do whatever it takes to get home, and if she stands in the way, I will kill her.


	6. Chapter 5: Stylists

**Thanks to all the people who favorite and added this to their story alerts. I do still like reviews… **

When we reach the Capitol, I'm handed over to my prep team, a strange trio of Capitol folk. There's Amica, with bright pink hair sticking out in spikes in all directions, skin tattooed with bright pink hearts and lips blown up to look like hearts. Her sister, Aurella, appears to be spray-painted gold and has huge breast-implants. Finally, there's Cincinnatus, who has a whole head of curly, bright red hair and bright red eye make-up and lipstick. They strip me of all my clothes, remove much of my body hair and scrub me down with an burning oil-like liquid before trimming my wild hair. They survey me with satisfaction. "Oooh," Amica coos. "Your so handsome."

"He'll be even more so when we hand him over to Portia," Cincinnnatus says grimly. "Now spray him down!" Aurella and Amica circle me obediently, cold water hitting my flesh, creating goosebumps. "Oooh, let's call Portia!" They all squeal, and run out of the room.

I pace anxiously around the room, waiting for Portia. When she walks in, she's not what I expect at all. She's not at all like my prep team, covered in makeup and trying desperately to look like someone else. "Well? What are you waiting for?" She says brusquely. "Put on the robe. It's time for lunch." I obediently follow her out of the room, into a smaller chamber.

Portia speaks a few words into a microphone, and seconds later, food appears. It's a goat cheese and apple tart, one of the things we can only afford to have when it's gone stale. That's not all, however. It comes with some sort of cherry cake, asparagus, and wild rice. I'm amazed by how complicated everything is here, how they never want for anything important, how their largest worry is that they didn't get the present they wanted. Portia raises an eyebrow. "Are you mute, or can you actually speak?" Pure irritation forces words out. "What do you want?" I snap. "You don't like us at all do you?" Portia muses. "Well, you better fake it."

"Trust me. I will."

"Guess what? I don't like you either."

"Do you think I care?"

"You ought to. Look, I realize how despicable you think us. Well, the crowd is the best chance you have of making it out of there alive."

"I can be pleasing if I wan't." I snap irritably. Porcia's hard gaze seems to soften. "Look, just give them a good show." She looks around, as if checking to see if anyone is in the room, before leaning forward. "Make sure…that when your in the arena…don't let them change who you are. Stay you." Then she leans back, grinning. "Aren't you wondering what your costume is?"

She's left me wondering who she is, but I decide to play along. "Sure. Am I dressed in a coal miner's suit?" I ask, spitting out the words, "coal miner's suit."

"No. Me and Cinna think the coal miner's suit is way overdone. We want you to have a lasting effect." I try to think to a time when district 12's costumes had a lasting effect. None comes to mind. Portia smirks. "Instead of focusing on the mining, we've decided to focus on the coal. Are you ready to burn?"

I'm taken to what is essentially a giant stable, wearing a black jumpsuit with a headpiece and cape that Portia is going to light on fire. She hasn't told me if the fire is real or fake. I'm desperately hoping it's the latter. Portia and Katniss's stylist, Cinna sit us down carefully arranging our outfits. "What do you think about the fire?" Katniss whispers to me nervously. "You'll rip off my cape, I'll rip off yours."

On second thought, maybe I'll just let her die.

"Deal," Katniss agrees. "Where is Haymitch, anyways?" I ask. "Isn't he supposed to protect us from this sort of thing?"

"With all that alcohol in him, it's probably not advisable to have him around an open flame," Katniss says. Both of us burst out laughing. That's the first funny thing I've heard Katniss say, and the pressure is getting to me.

It's not long before the opening ceremonies start. District 1 rolls out, dressed in tasteful tunics, spraypainted silver. Then 2…3….4… and so on and so forth until 11 rolls out, and Cinna is behind us, lighting us on fire. I hardly have time to brace myself for the pain, before I realize it is fake fire. Cinna jumps off the chariot and shouts at us. I think he was saying for us to hold hands. "What's he saying?" Katniss asks. "I think he said for us to hold hands, I reply. We do so, and I am happy, because it fits with my plan.

The crowd loves us. I wave, and blow kisses, and smile, and I can hear them chanting my name. I see Katniss doing the same. The chariots lead us up to the president's mansion, where he makes a short speech, before we are taken in to the training center; our home for the next few days.

Before I can relax, my prep team surrounds me, complimenting me on my gorgeous debut. A lot of tributes look mad, which I'm guessing is because we stole their thunder. Katniss lets go of my hand, and I decide to win her trust. "Thanks for keeping hold of me. I was getting a little shaky there," I say. "It didn't show," Katniss replies. "I'm sure no one noticed."

Like I care what you think! But I better keep up the act. Do whatever it takes to win, right? "You should wear flames more often," I say. "They suit you." I give her a small smile. Katniss smiles back, then leans up and kisses me. Right on the bruise.

…**In fact, since I like reviews so much, and I know how many of you there are out there, I'm going to be evil. I currently have 2 reviews. I won't post the next chapter until I have 5. That's only 3 more!**


	7. Chapter 6: Roofs

**Exactly five reviews! Yay! I might not get another chapter in for awhile, because I'm flying home from Ireland tomorrow, and will be VERY jet lagged. So, be patient!**

When we arrive at the training center, we are swept up a glass elevator. The sensation makes me feel sick, and I swear I am green by the time I arrive at floor 12, the penthouse, and the obvious floor for our district. Unfortunately, Effie will not be leaving us yet. She will be with us right into the arena. At least we'll get places, because Haymitch is no where to be seen, and is probably passed out drunk, not upholding his end of the bargain. Effie has been trying to win us sponsors, because, of course, she knows everyone in the Capitol. "I've been very mysterious, though," she says, her eyes squint half shut. "Because, of course, Haymitch hasn't bothered to tell me your strategies. But I've done my best with what I had to work with. How Katniss sacrificed herself for her sister. How you've both successfully struggled to overcome the barbarism of your district." Wow, thanks Effie. I'm so glad for your opinion on us and our district. "Everyone has their reservations, naturally. You being from the coal district. But I said, and this was very clever of me, I said, 'Well, if you put enough pressure on coal it turns to pearls!'" Effie says, beaming. She's wrong, but I respond to her cleverness just to make her happy. "Unfortunately, I can't seal the sponsor deals for you. Only Haymitch can do that," says Effie grimly. "But don't worry,

I'll get him to the table at gunpoint if necessary."

Effie against Haymitch. I wonder who would come out alive.

Effie leads us to our quarters, which once again are huge. They also have thousands of automatic buttons and microphones and switches. The shower has hundreds of different buttons for temperature and scent and texture of the water. I struggle with the shower, ending up smelling like lemons and lavender. I program the closet for a pair of jeans and a loose white shirt, then take off Delly's ankle bracelet that hasn't left my ankle since I left district 12. I examine it closely, seeing the complicated knots and the work and time Delly put into it. A tear drips down my face.

Portia walks into the room, and calls me to dinner. I sigh, and put the bracelet back on. She takes be to a balcony overlooking the Capitol, and we stand there in silence with Cinna until Effie and Katniss walk in.

I wonder if Haymitch will show up.

A young man offers us all glasses of wine. I refuse. I've tried wine before, and it's not very good. When Haymitch shows up, the meal is about to be served. It looks like he is keeping his end of the deal, because he's as sober as I've ever seen him. I participate in the discussion about our interview costumes, while Katniss just sits back and listens. Figures. Then, a girl comes in with a cake that she lights on fire. I grin. I've seen this trick before. Katniss, however, evidently hasn't. "What makes it burn?" she asks. "Is it alcohol? That's the last thing I was-Oh! I know you!" That's strange. She doesn't look like anyone I know from 12, and I know just about everybody. The girl shakes her head, and leaves the room, but the adults are watching Katniss. "Don't be ridiculous, Katniss. How could you possibly know an Avox?" snaps Effie. "The very thought."

"What's an avox?" Katniss asks, stupid like usual. I feel like banging my head on the table. The mess she's gotten herself into! I'll have to get her out, I suppose.

""Someone who committed a crime. They cut her tongue so she can't speak," says Haymitch. "She's probably a traitor of some sort. Not likely you'd know her."

"And even if you did, you're not to speak to one of them unless it's to give an order," says Effie. "Of course, you don't really know her."

"No, I guess not, I just.." Katniss stammers. I sigh. Now's just as good a time as any. I snap my fingers, naming the first person that comes to mind. "Delly Cartwright. That's who it is. I kept thinking she looked familiar as well. Then I realized she's a dead ringer for Delly." She looks just about as much like Delly as she looks like a pig, but that's okay. "Of course, that's who I was thinking of. It must be the hair," Katniss says gratefully. I almost snort. She could've saved herself. "Something about the eyes, too," I add, to make the story more believable. Now she owes me more. That can't be a bad thing, can it?

"Oh, well. If that's all it is," says Cinna. "And yes, the cake has spirits, but all the alcohol has burned off. I ordered it specially in honor of your fiery debut." I find it amazing the extravagance everyday life in the Capitol has. Can these people see it's not necessary? We eat the cake, then go to watch a recap of the opening ceremonies. We look amazing. "Whose idea was the hand holding?" asks Haymitch.

"Cinna's," says Portia.

"Just the perfect touch of rebellion," says Haymitch. "Very nice." Rebellion? Against the capitol? I remember Haymitch's defiance against the Capitol at the reaping. I eye our mentor with interest. Maybe he's not the drunk he pretends to be…

"Tomorrow morning is the first training session. Meet me for breakfast and I'll tell you exactly how I want you to play it," says Haymitch to Katniss and I. "Now go get some sleep while the grown-ups talk."

Katniss and I leave for our rooms, but I want to know just who she saw in the avox. I block the entrance to the room. "So, Delly Cartwright. Imagine finding her lookalike here." I say casually. Guessing that she may be hesitating on the pretense that we'll be overheard, I add, "Have you been on the roof yet?" She shakes her head. "Cinna showed me. You can practically see the whole city. The wind's a bit loud, though." Cinna didn't show me the roof, nor have I been up there. I just know there is a roof, you have views from roofs, and roofs have loud wind. So, this roof is probably like a roof. "Can we just go up?" Katniss asks. I inwardly groan. Didn't I just say that? "Sure, come on," I reply neutrally. I take her up; and found out I'm right. The roof is like a roof! What a surprise.

"I asked Cinna why they let us up here. Weren't they worried that some of the tributes might decide to jump right over the side?" I say, suddenly wondering about the problem but not wanting to seem unknowing. "What'd he say?" Katniss asks curiously. Uh oh…

I take the most likely path. "You can't," I guess. I stick my hand out, and am rewarded by an electric zap. I pull my hand back, biting back tears. "Some kind of electric field throws you back on the roof."

"Always worried about our safety," Katniss replies humorlessly. "Do you think they're watching us now?" she says, worried. "Maybe," I admit, not knowing a thing about the roof. "Come and see the garden." I lead her towards the flowers I saw when we came up. I look at Katniss waiting to hear her story. . "We were hunting in the woods one day. Hidden, waiting for game," she whispers.

"You and your father?" I whisper back.

"No, my friend Gale." Gale! That was the kid who wanted to see my father yesterday. Was it really only yesterday? Katniss continues. "Suddenly all the birds stopped singing at once. Except one. As if it were giving a warning call. And then we saw her. I'm sure it was the same girl. A boy was with her. Their clothes were tattered. They had dark circles under their eyes from no sleep. They were running as if their lives depended on it," she falls silent. I goad her on silently, praying she continues.

"The hovercraft appeared out of nowhere," She continued. "I mean, one moment the sky was empty and the next it was there. It didn't make a sound, but they saw it. A net dropped down on the girl and carried her up, fast, so fast like the elevator. They shot some sort of spear through the boy. It was attached to a cable and they hauled him up as well. But I'm certain he was dead. We heard the girl scream once. The boy's name, I think. Then it was gone, the hovercraft. Vanished into thin air. And the birds began to sing again, as if nothing had happened."

"Did they see you?" I ask. Probably, if she's our avox.

"I don't know. We were under a shelf of rock," I reply.

"You're shivering," I say, starting up the play of friendship. I take off my jacket and wrap up around her shoulders. "They were from here?" I ask. She nods. "Where do you suppose they were going?" I wonder.

"I don't know that," she replies. "Or why they would leave here."

"I'd leave here," I say loudly. Too loudly. I quickly cover for myself. "I'd go home now if they let me. But you have to admit, the food's prime." I'm such a good liar. "It's getting chilly. We better go in," I say, suprising myself. I was genuinely enjoying that moment with Katniss, for once. Inside, it's warm. I ask, on a whim, "Your friend Gale. He's the one who took your sister away at the reaping?"

"Yes. Do you know him?"

"Not really. I hear the girls talk about him a lot. I thought he was your cousin or something. You favor each other," I answer.

"No, we're not related," she says.

"Did he come to say good-bye to you?"

"Yes. So did your father. He brought me cookies." Really? That's news to me. "Really? Well, he likes you and your sister. I think he wishes he had a daughter instead of a houseful of boys. "He knew your mother when they were kids," I say, remembering his confession of love for her. "Oh, yes. She grew up in town," Katniss replies. "See you in the morning then."

"See you," I say, then head down the hall, where I crash, exhausted, on the bed and immediately fall asleep.


	8. Chapter 7: Training

**Sorry it took so long to get this posted, but I was so tired...I'll try to get the next chapter up soon.**

**Chapter 7  
**

**Training  
**

* * *

I fill my plate and slowly eat it, ready for the day of training. I'll need sponsors to win, so I better learn as much as I can and get as high a training score as possible. Haymitch leans towards us when we finish, and says, "So, let's get down to business. Training. First off, if you like, I'll coach you separately. Decide now."

"Why would you coach us separately?" Katniss asks. It's a good question. I know all her talents, and who cares if she knows my minimal ones? My father buys her squirrels, and they are always shot straight through the eye. "Say if you had a secret skill you might not want the other to know about," says Haymitch. "I don't have any secret skills," I say. "And I already know what yours is, right? I mean, I've eaten enough of your squirrels."

"You can coach us together," Katniss says. I nod in agreement, surprising myself. Am I starting to actually enjoy Katniss's company? "All right, so give me some idea of what you can do," says Haymitch.

"I can't do anything," I tell him. "Unless you count baking bread."

"Sorry, I don't. Katniss. I already know you're handy with a knife," says Haymitch.

"Not really. But I can hunt," she tells him. "With a bow and arrow."

"And you're good?" asks Haymitch. She definitely is. "I'm all right," She tells him. I stare at her. "She's excellent," I say, telling him the truth. "My father buys her squirrels. He always comments on how the arrows never pierce the body. She hits every one in the eye. It's the same with the rabbits she sells the butcher. She can even bring down deer."

"What are you doing?"

What am I doing? I want to be the one to make it out of the arena alive, not her. "What are you doing? If he's going to help you, he has to know what you're capable of. Don't underrate yourself," I say, not willing to admit I have no clue what I'm getting myself into. "What about you? I've seen you in the market. You can lift hundred-pound bags of flour," she snaps. "Tell him that. That's not nothing."

"Yes, and I'm sure the arena will be full of bags of flour for me to chuck at people. It's not like being able to use a weapon. You know it isn't," I shoot back, knowing that flour won't get me out of there alive. She actually has a chance and has no right to get mad!

"He can wrestle," Katniss tells Haymitch. "He came in second in our school competition last year, only after his brother."

"What use is that? How many times have you seen someone wrestle someone to death?" I say in disgust. Any of those Careers armed with any weapon could easily take me down. Why can't she see that? "There's always hand-to-hand combat. All you need is to come up with a knife, and you'll at least stand a chance. If I get jumped, I'm dead!" Katniss's voice rises.

"But you won't! You'll be living up in some tree eating raw squirrels and picking off people with arrows. You know what my mother said to me when she came to say good-bye, as if to cheer me up, she says maybe District Twelve will finally have a winner. Then I realized, she didn't mean me, she meant you!" I burst out, stunned that I revealed that.

"Oh, she meant you," Katniss says, with a wave of dismissal

"She said, 'She's a survivor, that one.' She is," I tell her. That makes her shut up. Even my own mother doesn't have faith in me. "But only because someone helped me." She says. My eyes flicker downwards, as I realize it's not her fault I gave her the bread. That she is a perfectly likeable person, and it is completely my fault that I gave her the bread. It kept her alive, and for once, I don't feel mad, even if I wish I had given it to Lenya. "People will help you in the arena. They'll be tripping over each other to sponsor you." I finally say.

"No more than you," she replies, but I know that's not true. Time to start playing my last card. "She has no idea. The effect she can have." I tell Haymitch, refusing to look at her. After a minute, Haymitch says,

"Well, then. Well, well, well. Katniss, there's no guarantee they'll be bows and arrows in the arena, but during your private session with the Gamemakers, show them what you can do. Until then, stay clear of archery. Are you any good at trapping?"

"I know a few basic snares," she mutters. Why did she take my statement offensively?

"That may be significant in terms of food," says Haymitch. "And Peeta, she's right, never underestimate strength in the arena. Very often, physical power tilts the advantage to a

player. In the Training Center, they will have weights, but don't reveal how much you can lift in front of the other tributes. The plan's the same for both of you. You go to group training. Spend the time trying to learn something you don't know. Throw a spear. Swing a mace. Learn to tie a decent knot. Save showing what you're best at until your private sessions. Are we clear?" says Haymitch. We nod, but I roll my eyes at the fact that Haymitch agrees with Katniss.

"One last thing. In public, I want you by each other's side every minute," says Haymitch. We both start to object, but Haymitch slams his hand on the table. "Every minute! It's not open for discussion! You agreed to do as I said! You will be together, you will appear amiable to each other. Now get out. Meet Effie at the elevator at ten for training." I glare at Katniss, and she stalks to her room, slamming the door like a two year old. I take back whatever I said about liking her. I sit at the table for a moment, before heading to my room for a few minutes, then heading to training. A tall woman, Atala, tells us all the stations, when you finish, I mutter to Katniss, "Where would you like to start?" She jumps. I smirk. "Suppose we tie some knots," she replies. "Right you are," I say, and we head over to the knot tying station.

I learn that I suck at tying knots. Literally suck. Now you may be laughing, because who can't tie a knot, but it's a lot harder than you think. The instructor is gushing over Katniss, because she's so good at everything. Little miss perfect. I finally learn some basic knots, before we head over to camoflauge. My hometown. I'm good at it too. Finally, little miss perfect isn't good at something. I can tell she's annoyed too, that I've finally beaten her. "I do the cakes," I tell her, in the mood for boasting. "The cakes?" she asks absentmindedly. I'm mad she doesn't care, which is sort of ridiculous. "What cakes?"

"At home. The iced ones, for the bakery," I reply. Finally, she gets it. I forgot how long it takes to get things through her thick skull. "It's lovely. If only you could frost someone to death," she says sarcastically.

"Don't be so superior. You can never tell what you'll find in the arena. Say it's actually a gigantic cake —" I begin, annoyed before she breaks in.

"Say we move on." I'm angry now. I sat through her knot tying, she could at least humor me now.

For the next three days we do this, and I'm so bored that I might welcome death. During lunch I'm forced to talk to Katniss, and I tell her about meaningless things in my life. Nothing important. Nothing about Lenya. I find out I'm good at lying, which is a good thing, I suppose. Do whatever it takes to win…

On the second day we're headed to bed, and I'm so tired of this, so tired of Haymitch snapping after us, of having to be here instead of home, that I grumble, "Someone ought to get Haymitch a drink."

Katniss snorts, before replying, "Don't. Don't let's pretend when no ones around."

Good. She doesn't like me either.

When time comes for our private sessions, I'm about to head in when Katniss stops me. "Remember what Haymitch said about being sure to throw the weights."

Thanks, but I remembered. I feel like I need to reply though, so I say, "Thanks. You shoot…straight."

I head into my session, and toss some weights around for awhile until they dismissed me. They were singing a drinking song the whole time I was there, and I bet I won't get better than a 5, and even that's pushing it. I head back to the apartment, waiting for Katniss to arrive.

* * *

**Ok, I want 10 reviews before the next chapter. Thanks to all readers and reviewers!**


	9. sneak peek

**Sorry! NOT a chapter. I'm working on it as fast as I can, but I just got back from a place with no wifi, and am leaving for another one tomorrow. I'll try and get the chapter in, but it will be difficult. If one's not up tomorrow, just know, it'll be about two weeks. **

**Sneak peek of what I have so far:**

Katniss runs into her room, crying. What happened? Did she miss the bull's eye? Probably. Effie and Haymitch leave to figure out what happened, and I let them go, happy to have some time to myself. I am thinking on my strategy, and know that Katniss can't know what I'm going to do. Tomorrow I'll ask Haymitch to train us separately. At least I won't have to spend as much time with Katniss. Haymitch and Effie come back, bewildered at Katniss's reactions. She's probably just being a drama queen, aching for attention. I chitchat with Haymitch and Effie about my training session. Haymitch is in a good mood, so I guess it went better than I thought. I'm happy if that's true, because I'll get more sponsors, and have a better chance of going home-to Lenya.

When the sun begins to set, Effie goes to call Katniss to dinner, and the stylists arrive. Believe it or not, Katniss actually attends. I'm dying of curiosity, and need to know what happened. While the adults are going on and on about the weather, I meet her eyes and raise my eyebrows. What happened? She doesn't answer. I nearly let out an exasperated sigh.


	10. Chapter 8: Second best

**I'm so sorry that it took so long to post another chapter. Thank you to all my faithful reviewers. I hope you enjoy it!**

_And it's a sad picture, _

_the final blow hits you_

_Somebody else gets what you wanted again_

_You know it's all the same, _

_another time and place_

_Repeating history and you're getting sick of it_

_-Change, Taylor Swift_

_Katniss runs into her room, crying. What happened? Did she miss the bull's eye? Probably. Effie and Haymitch leave to figure out what happened, and I let them go, happy to have some time to myself. I am thinking on my strategy, and know that Katniss can't know what I'm going to do. Tomorrow I'll ask Haymitch to train us separately. At least I won't have to spend as much time with Katniss. Haymitch and Effie come back, bewildered at Katniss's reactions. She's probably just being a drama queen, aching for attention. I chitchat with Haymitch and Effie about my training session. Haymitch is in a good mood, so I guess it went better than I thought. I'm happy if that's true, because I'll get more sponsors, and have a better chance of going home-to Lenya._

_ When the sun begins to set, Effie goes to call Katniss to dinner, and the stylists arrive. Believe it or not, Katniss actually attends. I'm dying of curiosity, and need to know what happened. While the adults are going on and on about the weather, I meet her eyes and raise my eyebrows. What happened? She doesn't answer. I nearly let out an exasperated sigh._

When we reach the main meal, Haymitch finally says, "Okay, enough small talk, just how bad you were today?"

I decide to try and make Katniss feel better so that she'll actually answer, so reply, "I don't know that it mattered. By the time I showed up, no one even bothered to look at me. They were singing some kind of drinking song, I think. So, I threw around some heavy objects until they told me I could go."

Katniss still doesn't answer.

"And you, sweetheart?" Haymitch coaxes.

"I shot an arrow at the gamemakers."

I freeze, and stare at her in disbelief. "You what?" Effie says, horrified.

"I shot an arrow at them. In their direction. It's like Peeta said, I was shooting and they were ignoring me, and I just…I just lost my head, so I shot an apple out of their stupid roast pig's mouth!" she says angrily.

"And what did they say?" Cinna asks.

"Nothing. Or I don't know. I walked out after that."

"Without being dismissed?" Effie gasps.

"I dismissed myself."

"Well, that's that," Haymitch says, not seeming angry at all. I stare at him in disbelief.

"Do you think they'll arrest me?" she asks. I snort. No. They are just going to guarantee your death in the games, smart one.

"Doubt it. Be a pain to replace you at this stage," Haymitch tells her.

"What about my family? Will they punish them?" she says, worried.

"Don't think so. Wouldn't make much sense. See, they'd have to reveal what happened in the Training Center for it to have any worthwhile effect on the population. People would need to know what you did. But they can't, since it's secret, so it'd be a waste of effort. More likely they'll just make you life hell in the arena."

"Well, they've already promised to do that to us anyways," I add in earnestly.

"Very true," Haymitch agrees. "What were their faces like?"

Katniss smiles. "Shocked. Terrified. Uh, ridiculous, some of them. One man tripped backward into a bowl of punch."

We all burst out laughing, except Effie who is trying no to smile. She replies, "Well it serves them right. It's their job to pay attention to you. And just because you come from District Twelve is no excuse to ignore you." She freezes. "I'm sorry, but that's what I think."

"I'll get a very bad score," Katniss said, unconvinced.

"Scores only matter if they're very good, no one pays much attention to the bad or mediocre ones. For all they know, you could be hiding your talents to get a low score on purpose. People use that strategy." Portia says comfortingly.

I add in, because all the attention is on Katniss and she doesn't need a pity party, "I hope that's how people interpret the four I'll probably get. If that. Really, is anything less impressive than watching a person pick up a heavy ball and throw it a couple of yards. One almost landed on my foot."

Katniss grins at me, and we finish eating dinner.

After dinner, we leave the room to learn our scores. I record them down in the same place I wrote down the tributes. Marvel from 1 gets a nine, while his partner scores an 8. The District 2 tributes both score tens. Elia from 3 got a 4, while her partner got a 7. Both from four got eights. Finch gets a 7, while her partner scores a 5. The siblings from 6 both get threes, while both from 7 get sixes. One of the tributes from 8 scores a four, the other scores a two. From 9, one gets a 6 while the other gets a 3. The crippled boy from 10 gets a 6 which is suprising, considering his leg. His partner gets a 5. The large boy from eleven, Thresh, scores a 10, while his 12 year old partner manages a 7. My face flashes up on the screen. I lean forward in anticipation, and score an eight. My face relaxes into a smile. A career score! Katniss gets an eleven, and the smile turns into a frown. Why is she always so much better than me?

"There must be a mistake. How…how could that happen?" Katniss asks.

"Guess they liked your temper. They've got a show to put on. They need some players with heat." Haymitch replies.

"Katniss, the girl who was on fire. Oh, wait until you see your interview dress."

"More flames?"

"Of a sort."

Why does she always get the attention? What do I do wrong? I force myself to congratulate Katniss, before slipping off to bed.

While I sleep, I dream of Lenya.

_I'm sitting on the tree stump outside her house when she runs out, with her little sister. I smile, and stand up to hug her, but she stands back._

"_How could you?" she says angrily. "How could you abandon us? You liar! You never keep your promises!" My friends and brothers join her, closing in on me. "Liar," Yarrow says. "Weakling. You were beaten by a girl! A girl!"_

_Delly walks up to me, and raises a knife, the blade glinting silver in the sunlight…"_

I wake up sweating, and head to the dining room. Effie goes to wake up Katniss, and when she comes back, I tell Haymitch my plan. An alliance with the careers, and declaring love for Katniss on national television.

Katniss joins us, and starts shoveling food into her mouth. "So, what's going on? You're coaching us on interviews today, right?"

"Right." Haymitch replies.

"You don't have to wait until I'm done. I can listen and eat at the same time."

"Well, there's been a change of plans. About our current approach."

"What's that?"

"Peeta has asked to be coached separately."

**I'll post the next chapter when I reach 20 reviews**


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